Of Bookshops and Beginnings
by booksdefygravity
Summary: James encounters Lily in a bookstore. (Could be a one-shot, could be a two-shot. We'll see how it goes.)


**AN: I just really needed some Jily in my life. I ****_think_**** this is just a one-shot, although it could turn into a two-shot, depending on how things go.**

**xxxxxx**

James Potter really liked books.

He liked the way they smelled. He liked the sound of turning pages. He liked Muggle westerns and horrific romance stories and pretentious things written by people with hard-to-pronounce French names. More than anything, he liked wandering among the shelves and searching for the _right _book, the book that said _Take me home and get lost in me._

So when his mother dropped him off in London and told him to keep himself entertained for a few hours, he was more than happy. Within twenty minutes, he'd found his way to a nearby bookshop and was roaming amongst the shelves.

The bookshop was mostly empty, completely silent save for the sound of a ticking clock, so it came as a shock when he heard someone say "_Potter_?"

He looked up and nearly dropped the book he'd been examining.

Lily Evans was standing in front of him.

Lily Evans with her red hair and green eyes, with her freckles and slightly incredulous expression, with cutoff shorts and band t-shirt. Lily Evans, who still hated him- and with good reason- because he'd been a complete arse for a great many years. Lily Evans, standing in front of him, red hair spilling over her shoulders, like some sort of bookshop goddess. Lily Evans, who he'd been terribly, madly, desperately in love with for as long as he could remember.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" she said, glaring at him. "Are you stalking me?"

James stared at her, still somewhat stunned by the fact that she was standing in front of him, and tried to say something vaguely intelligent. What came out was "Stalking?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Was that an admission of guilt?"

"What? I- no! No, I'm not stalking you!" said James, finally managing to make himself speak. "Merlin, I didn't even know that you worked here."

"You just happened to stumble across me in a random Muggle bookshop in London?" said Lily. "You don't even live in London."

"Mum's doing some shopping," he said, "so she dropped me off here. Why do you know where I live, anyways?"

"I pay attention to things," said Lily. She relaxed slightly. "Glad to know you're not stalking me, though."

"Why are you here, anyways?" said James. "You don't live in London either."

"I work here," she said.

"Bit of a long commute, isn't it?" He was fairly certain that she lived at least three hours away from London, near Frank Longbottom's place.

"About fifteen minutes, actually," she said.

"Are you staying in London for the summer, or something?" he said.

"Yeah." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. _Curse you, Evans, for being so damn beautiful. Not to mention funny. And intelligent. And- argh, focus. _

"Who are you staying with?" he said, feeling a prickle of concern. He didn't know for sure, but he didn't think Alice, Marlene, or Mary lived anywhere near London.

She bit her lip, which was unreasonably distracting. "No one, actually," she said. "I'm, um, here by myself."

He took a small step towards her. "Is everything okay?"

She inhaled sharply. "No. Yes. Not really. It's just… my sister Petunia is a complete arse, and her fiancée is even worse, and I know Mum and Dad are tired of us fighting all the time… I just wanted to get away from it all. Besides, school starts up again in a month."

Although he knew full well that she was completely capable of looking after herself, the thought of her alone in London worried him.

"Never mind," said Lily, looking away. "I don't know why I told you that, anyways. It's not like you care."

"Of course I care," said James. _Not care? I can't remember a time I haven't cared about you, Evans._ "Just because you hate me doesn't mean I hate you."

She looked up at him, surprise flickering across his face. "I don't hate you."

"Please," he said. "It's my fault, anyways. I used to be a real git." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Have I ever formally apologized for that, by the way?"

She grinned. "I don't think so."

"In that case," he said. "I hereby issue a formal apology to Lily Evans for acting like an arse for a great many years. I'm sorry."

There was a strange expression on her face. Her eyes met his, and she smiled slowly, a smile that made butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"I formally accept your apology," she said. "But I haven't hated you for, oh, at least six months."

"Really," he said, trying to appear casual, even though his heart was singing _she doesn't hate me, she doesn't hate me, she doesn't hate me, _over and over again. "What changed your mind?"

"When I figured out the truth about Remus," she said.

His blood turned to ice. "What are you talking about?"

"James, it's okay," she said quickly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm his friend, too, and I've suspected for a long time. But I finally managed to get the whole story out of Peter."

"What a rat," said James, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Literally, I hear," she said. "But he told me how you figured it out and spent almost an entire year trying to become an Animagus, just to help him." She reached out, hesitantly, and put her hand on his shoulder. "That was really dangerous, you know."

"Since when have I been cautious?" he said. Her hand was resting lightly on his shoulder, careful, like a hummingbird, like a single sudden movement would frighten it away.

"You know what I mean," she said quietly. "You're a good friend." Slowly, almost reluctantly, she withdrew her hand.

He looked at her for a moment, trying to save the memory so he could recall it in perfect detail later: the two of them in the silence of the bookshop, surrounded by words waiting to be read, with such a small amount of space between them.

"Evans," he said.

"Potter."

"Lily."

"James," she said, and the sound of her voice speaking his name was like a whisper and a promise and a glimmer of hope.

"Lily," he said again. "Do you… um… I mean, would you…"

She gave him her completely infuriating half-smile. "Yes, Potter?"

"Is there any chance that you would possibly want to get coffee sometime? Maybe?" He stared down at the dusty bookshop floor. _Please say yes, please say yes._

"If sometime means in twenty minutes, when my lunch break starts," she said, "yes."

He looked up, blinking at her. "Wait, really?"

"Really."

And even though it was just one small word, it felt to him like a sunrise after a long night, like a single smile after a thousand frowns. It felt like hope. It felt like a promise.

It felt like a beginning.

**xxxxxx**

**AN: Please let me know what you thought of it! :)**


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